Armor & Music
by Crystar500
Summary: After helping to fight back Vishkar and control Brazil in the name of the rebellion, Reinhardt and Lucio cement their partnership permanently, as a heroic duo - one of two unorthodox friends.


_Yes, this is a fanfiction. I haven't written a FanFiction in a long time, so this is me getting back into it via Overwatch. It's been a long time coming, really. I wanted to do a story for a while, and inevitably it was Overwatch related. So here it is. I don't do ships, do don't get your hopes up. I always just felt like stories of Overwatch could work in almost a comic book sort of style. So "Armor and Music" is a series based around Reinhardt and Lucio as a heroic duo, sort of like Power Man and Iron Fist in Marvel. Reading it over, I'm a bit rusty, I feel like, but now with the initial started, I believe I'll improve into the story-writing prowess I used to have. I used to be a big fanfiction writer on Poke Amino especially, but those days fell apart._

 _This chapter doesn't have too much action, just a simple sort of intro to what brought this uncanny duo together, with some friendly dialogue between the two. So in a sense, it's a prologue, but still Issue 1._

 _And without further ado, read on. I hope you enjoy!_

Night had fallen over the Brazilian skyline. A humming sound - the sound of an elevator's surging power as it traveled upwards could be heard through the ears of the man standing inside. Silence, otherwise. Dead silence. Perhaps an occasional grunt, or the faint sound of the man's own breathing would be present - but otherwise, nothing but silence. The elevator was a pure chrome, matching the fancy landscape of the building the man was currently visiting. When it came to the man himself, he was rather tall and bulky - his shoulders wide. Perhaps almost too tall. His head stopped only mere inches below the elevator's roof. His attire was sharp - a stark tuxedo that was prim and proper for the occasion. Within one of his hands was a black walking staff, one of mere looks rather than usage. The man, although old - prevalent via his completely gray hair - was more than capable of walking efficiently. The walking staff was an idea the tailor had given him, in an attempt for adding flair in his looks. Keeping his demeanor bold and upright, the man felt over his grayed hair with his free hand, petting it down to keep it flat. The hair wasn't long, and ran just above his shoulders. Tonight, he had it slicked back neatly for the occasion.

The elevator inevitably stopped with a small ring that resembled a doorbell in sound, causing him to take notice. Twenty-fifth floor. The man's eyes darted to his wrist, where his shiny silver watch sat humbly, ticking away. He was arriving late, but not too late. The party had started at seven, but he had arrived at eight. Surely the host wouldn't mind some slight tardiness - especially after how hard he had worked to dress up for the evening. With that in mind, he stepped into the open hallway of the twenty-fifth floor and looked about for the appropriate door he was invited to. It didn't take long. Through the hallway came the somewhat muffled beating of electronic-genre music. The beats of the music felt as if they were a giant tapping his finger against the side of the building. Perhaps he had dressed for the wrong type of party.

With that, the man knocked upon the door that was labeled "25A." The door was sat at the end of the left wing of the hallway, with nothing but steel wall to his left and empty hallway to his right. The man couldn't help but wonder about the fellow members of this building. How were they able to put up with the party host's musical tastes? Surely they would've been annoyed by now. Perhaps they could've filed for a noise compliment. Or did his friend have enough influence that the neighbors simply joined the party? It was an intriguing thought, one that the man didn't dwell on for much longer. Thinking was not his strong suit. His mind would eventually give out and focus on something more interesting.

The door opened and there the party host stood, in a much different outfit than the man was used to. His friend donned a simple loose white t-shirt and black sweatpants, with a pair of stylish blue and black sneakers to go along with it. His complexion was a darker tone than the man's, and his height was much shorter. Even so, the dreaded party host looked up at the large man and chuckled happily at his presence. "It's about time you showed up to the party! Welcome! Make yourself at home, alright? My home is your home." The man happily accepted the invitation when the party host stepped to the side to let him in. "You came dressed really sharp! You got class, man. I like it. You should've kicked it casual, though, like me. Only the guests are dressed up, you know?" The party host replied as he shut the front door, tugging the chain lock at the top into place.

The older man stepped inside and only smiled at his friend's comments, his hands on his waist as he walked into the observe the area. The party host certainly lavished in the benefits of his celebrity status. The room he entered was a large kitchen-living room area, filled with people enjoying beverages, music, and casual chatter. The windows stretched from the floor to the ceiling, giving a glimpse at the Brazilian skyline. Three large couches sat in the center of the floor around a large flatscreen TV. On the left, the luxurious kitchen could be seen, along with what was once the dining room - now converted into a makeshift dance floor. DJ equipment stemming from a laptop sat on the dining table, with several men and woman dancing just feet away from it. Also on the table sat a loudspeaker device, one that the older man had seen many times in the past. "Ah, my friend! I have arrived only at your invitation. I must look my best if I am to be one of your guests!"

"Man, I'm not hearing that noise!" The party host chuckled again, patting his friend's shoulder. "My home is your home. You can come casual if you want." Then the younger man suddenly chirped up with an "Oh" before patting his friend's shoulder quickly once again. "Hey, why not you go sit down a bit? I need to get the playlist set up. These people don't stop dancing, you know?" He cheerfully retorted, backing up enthusiastically to the dining table to assume his position by the DJ equipment.

Stretching in his place briefly, the older man didn't hesitate to stroll over to one of the white leather sofas, picking the empty one specifically to sit down and stretch out in the center, with his arms over the top of the couch. He sighed out, resting his back against the cushioned surface. "Now this is comfort!" The man spoke to himself alone, yet with the same tone of enthusiasm he had held earlier.

Over on the makeshift dance floor, one man dancing in his blue dress shirt and navy trousers called out to the party host. "Hey Lucio, you think you can play that calming song you have? What's it called? Rejuvenate?" He chuckled happily while dancing, obviously under the influence of a few beverages.

Lucio waved his hand dismissively. "Not even a problem. I got you hooked! I know the one you want." Lucio dragged his finger across the laptop's mouse pad, queuing a few songs up in the program he was using. "Now that's a good playlist." The surround speakers on the computer, and the speaker from his loudspeaker device on the table both blazed the rejuvenating music aloud. Despite being an electronic best, everyone on the makeshift felt dance floor seemed to look much calmer, all of their tension washing away. Happy with the result, Lucio grinned and picked up his smartphone, a lengthy white device that sat next to his laptop. He jogged over to the couch where his friend sat and sat at the opposite end. He leaned facing his friend, leaning against the armrest with his back. "Man, it's good to see you!" Lucio admittedly said aloud, tapping a few times at his phone. "You liking the music?"

The older man couldn't help shaking his head. "Bah, kids these days and their techno music! You should enjoy the classics! Like Hasselhoff!" The older man chuckled aloud and stretched out his arms some more, scooting away to give Lucio more space. "What is next on the list, Lucio? There is justice to be done! We need more villains to face!" As ever, the older man was enthusiastic about fighting for the forces of good.

Lucio only rolled his eyes at the comment on his music. "We gotta get you some new tunes one of these days, Reinhardt." Lucio stretched himself, happily sighing out. "We pushed Vishkar back enough already that the government is on our side. They don't want them here either. Probably better that way. They don't understand that people need to be free!" Lucio then sat up, obviously serious about what he was talking about. "Look at these people. Vishkar talks about making this a better place, but look how happy they are without their help!" With a sigh, he leaned back into his former position. "And I have you to thank, Reinhardt! I'm glad I called you in to help me out."

"It was no problem at all, my friend! I can't sit when there is glory to be won out in the field! Even down here in Brazil." Reinhardt chuckled and leaned comfortably back in the couch and sighed out in exasperation at the thought. Fighting in Brazil against Vishkar had taken a toll on the two, despite how different in age they were. An onlooker would've noticed how exhausted both looked in their relaxed positions, despite how cleanly dressed they both were. "What is next, my friend? There has to be more for us out there!"

"I was hoping you'd say that. We're too good of a duo to ruin this partnership! We are just heroes for hire right now, aren't we? There's gotta be a need for help out there somewhere. So I've been looking into a few places... But I don't know. We'll see." Lucio replied. "In other words - yeah, we got some bad guys to mess with. Just give me time to plan it out, alright?" Lucio sighed out and stretched once again.

"All in good time, my friend! I will be ready with the time comes for us to bring justice!" Always enthusiastic, Reinhardt was, when it came to serving the forces of good. "This old dog still can bring the fight, you know!"

"Of course I know that. I'm not questioning your abilities, Reinhardt. Only your taste in music." Lucio then shared a laugh with the older friend of his.

The two were an unorthodox pairing. One was an old man, long past his prime days of fighting - but yet, a fire still burned in his heart with a desire to fight for what was right. Lucio had seen it first hand. Once he heard the struggle of the rebellion in Brazil, he didn't hesitate to help fight. Lucio was on a much different spectrum. He was a young DJ, light-hearted and laid back with the world at his fingertips thanks to his immense fan backing across the world. Yet, even as a DJ, Lucio still led the Brazilian rebels against Vishkar without hesitation. Other celebrities would've sat back and ignored the troubles in the country. Together, these two formed an odyssey when it came to heroic duos, one that villains didn't expect. At least, not at the moment.

Lucio spoke up once more. "Hey, Reinhardt. Share one of your stories for me, you know? Let me know how you came to be. I've been fighting alongside you for a while now, and I still haven't found out your origins. I wanna know why you "fight for justice" and all of that good stuff." Lucio chuckled, for he had did his best to do an impression of his friend when he spoke on justice.

"There is not much to be said about it, my friend! I was a soldier who still lives by a code of honor, and I will work to see justice done where it is needed." Reinhardt simply replied, stretching somewhat. He was a simple man. Long explanations of former tales were not needed in his eyes when it came to origins.

"You were in Overwatch back when that was a thing, right?" Lucio brought up, after thinking it over for a few moments. His memory wasn't completely sure, but Lucio put the pieces together anyway. "Yeah, I think you were! Must've been fun."

"Overwatch was glorious back in it's time! Old Jack knew how to keep things together!" Reinhardt chuckled for a few moments before he sighed deeply, with a few moments of silence to follow. "Ah… but that was a long time ago."

It was an awkward silence for a few moments as both heroes recalled the times that once were with Overwatch looming over the world as protectors. "Listen, I'm sorry for bringing it up. I was just curious about -"

Lucio didn't speak for long before the glass of the windows shattered completely, spreading glass across the white carpeted floor. In shock, both Lucio and Reinhardt jumped up from their couch and look towards the shattering - just as the people on the dance floor did. Through the window came two men via a rope, distinctly threatening in their appearance.

The first man that came through was very thin, dressed entirely in black camouflage. The man's skin was pale, and he wore a black winter hat atop his head. His beard was clean shaven, an expression of experience on his face. Once he entered Lucio's home, he unsheathed a blade from his belt - a sword that was glowing blue of some unwieldy energy.

The second man seemed like the leader of the duo, sharing the experienced and threatening expression. This man kept a shaggy brown beard, a scar prevalent over his right eye of intimidating battle damage. Just like his partner, he wore black camouflage completely in his outfit. Notably, his weapons of choice were much different - with two gun holsters strapped to his belt. The man unsheathed two small pistols, firing them into the ceiling. Machine pistols, made known once he fired. "Everybody down! Nobody moves, nobody gets hurt! We're here for one man." The mercenary then jabbed his finger directly at the party host, Lucio himself.

Although Lucio was taken by surprise like everyone else, he uttered a confident reply. "When will you Vishkar learn that people should be free?" Lucio nudged Reinhardt with his elbow. "You see this? Another case of Vishkar trying to ruin our people's freedoms. Just trying to have a good time and they break into my home."

"Stop talking, or else Phobos here is going to shoot everyone in this place down without a second thought." The scrawnier man with the blade retorted aloud in reply. "And I'll cut you down into pieces right after." A laugh came after, maniacal in tone.

"That's right Deimos." The burlier man snickered. "What will it be, street ruffian? You and your large friend here come with us, or do we need to fill you full of holes first?" He chuckled, sharing the same sinister aspect of his fellow mercenary.

Lucio put his hands up. "Alright, I'll come with you." He answered in reluctance, much to the shock of both Reinhardt and the guests. "On one condition. Everyone here has to leave first. No stray bullets come our way." Reinhardt was about to speak out here, but Lucio quickly tapped his arm to signal against speaking. "We got a deal, mercs?"

Deimos and Phobos looked at one another before Phobos spoke up. "Alright. Everybody out through the front door! Don't try anything funny, or I start shooting!" He waved one of his guns at the crowd in the back before waving the gun towards the door. People made for the door rather quickly in fear, with the heroes and mercs remaining in a firm standoff in silence. Once everyone had left, the front door was left open with the room remaining silent. "Now… we're getting paid dollar to take both of you in. Especially the big guy."

Both of the heroes raised their eyebrows. "Why him?" Lucio asked in confusion. It was unlike Vishkar's methods to be so violent, but Lucio wasn't surprised they would try something of this nature in order to threaten him into surrendering. Reinhardt, however, was merely an accomplice. Was it because he helped turned the tide of the rebellion?

"We ain't talking. We got our orders." Deimos snapped, annoyed by Lucio's persistence and curiosity.

Lucio rolled his tongue in his cheek, taking a quick glance up at his larger friend. "You got a plan for this, Reinhardt?" Lucio whispered. He looked around the room, eyeing for his speaker gun. No chance. It was behind them, still hooked to the laptop used for spreading music for the party. In the dense silence of the room, however, the tune of music caught Lucio's ears - one of his own songs, one known for it's tendency to speed things forward. His eyes lit up. "Reinhardt. The couch. Cover."

"Hey, stop talking over there! Now come with us, or we'll fill you both with holes and get on with our day." Phobos was getting rather irritated at the stalling Lucio persisted on using to buy themselves time. To the two mercenaries, their fate was inevitable. A sudden death or capture that would lead to their payment. Of course, taking them alive would pay more.

Lucio tapped Reinhardt's shoulder again. "Hit it!" He shouted, to which the older man quickly slid down into a crouch, tipping one of the couches and shielding both of them with it. Both heroes crouched behind the couch steadily. "What now, my friend?" The older man asked, flinching along with his younger friend when Phobos began shooting at the couch angrily. Thankfully, the couch was thick enough to take some bullets, but it wouldn't hold for too long. The bullets were already beginning to break the cushions. Reinhardt bellowed a laugh. "Is that all?" Despite the unorthodox shield, Reinhardt felt pretty confident in their chances.

"Don't worry!" Lucio jogged over, sliding into the living room and grabbing his speaker gun from the table. He had slid onto his back, to which Deimos saw a vulnerable. Laughing maniacally, Deimos rushed forward with his sword drawn. With a grit of his teeth in anxiousness, Lucio quickly plugged his phone into his speaker gun and fired, shooting a soundwave off at the charging Deimos. The mercenary flew back with a cry of pain, hitting the wall near Phobos - unconscious from the knockback. "Boom!" Lucio laughed. In the back, Phobos grit his teeth. Before he could aim his guns at Lucio, the DJ flicked a switch on his speaker gun - maxing it's charge before slamming it on the ground. A green aura surged through the room, with the aura coating the two heroes. The two mercenaries remained unaffected. "Drop the beat on 'em, Reinhardt!"

"Gladly, my friend!" Reinhardt charged forward with the couch, infused with both the aura and speed-inducing music. Phobos was slammed against the wall, his guns falling to the floor. Reinhardt chuckled and gripped the mercenary by the collar using his own natural strength. With a few loud grunts of sheer fighting power, Reinhardt slammed his fist into the mercenary's face before tossing him aside. Chuckling, he grabbed Deimos as well, who was still reeling from the hit on the wall. Both disoriented men were placed right in front of the broken window.

Lucio jogged over and chuckled along with his older friend. "Seems like the usual business to me, huh Reinhardt?"

"All in a good day's work, my friend." The two were both grinning, quite pleased that they both figured out a way to combat the dire situation.

"Of course it is!" Lucio looked over the two mercenaries. "Hey, listen… Next time you try to attack my home, make sure you mind the music." With a grin, Lucio clicked the soundwave trigger on his speaker gun, knocking the two insidious men back out the window they came. The two heroes didn't bother to hear their landing, and instead went to sit down one one of the couches left in place.

Once the adrenaline had simmered down, the air remained dense. Neither hero had bothered to pick up the mess. It was mostly Lucio who had maintained the ensuing minutes of silence, refusing to speak as he collected his thoughts. It prompted Reinhardt himself to speak. "Lucio… I am sorry this happened. We showed those two justice, however! And nobody was hurt! What are we to do now? There is glory to be won!"

Lucio shook his head a moment, although he appreciated the usual persona Reinhardt maintained. "That's the problem, Reinhardt! They attacked my house… right at my home. Were they even with Vishkar? They were after you too." After those words, the heroes both remained silent for minutes more before Lucio spoke again.

"I have to work on those hero for hire plans sooner than I thought."


End file.
